An Unexpected Party
by VoodooValkyrie
Summary: Branwen Artair a hunter, healer, wandering warrior, a daughter of Skyrim..The Dovahkiin. She is all these things and countless more, a mortal woman with a dragons soul destined to live for eternity in the legends and myths of a people. Some more grand than others, some obscure and wild beyond the imaginings of gentle folk. Some so purely outlandish they could only be fiction right?
1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note: I do not own Skyrim or the Hobbit, but Branwen is my own character so please ask before you use her for anything of you own. I also want to say that I can not for the life of me find my copy of the hobbit so when my details a off please pm me about it so I can change it, because of this I also will not likely have any dates right and I apologize for that. Be warned right now its been a long time since I've done this so I'm a little rusty and I have to say I'm only doing it because I'm very disappointed that there are not more Dovahkiin in Middle-Earth stories available ( hint hint- if you are reading this that is a challenge, get writing)**

**P.S. This first chapter was written at 11:30 at night in less than an hour so don't expect to much.**

Branwen stood stock still, quietly listening to the world around her. She was in a very small hollow full of young trees many of which were familiar to her and a few that were not. Other than the wind in the trees and the gentle calling of songbirds she was alone, even Wynhild her destrier was absent. She lifted her face into the wind and drank deeply of the sent it carried to her. Many of which she was familiar with but a few were more exotic. Her wolf spirit stirred within her as she called upon its more powerful senses. She had a clear image in her mind of the she-wolf twitching her nose and flicking her ears before rolling over and falling deeper into sleep. She huffed softly in amusement, then squared her shoulders and sucked in a lung full of air.

"Laas Yah Nir!" It was a harsh almost guttural whisper and the moment the last syllable had left her lips the world around her seemed to shift.

The life essence of every living creature (and a few of the older trees she was surprised to note) bloomed into halos of vibrant color that pulsed all around her. She was more curious that anything when the only notable life form in the area was some type of large animal exploring the hill rolling away and out of sight to her left. It was just far enough that it had not noticed her sudden appearance.

She was very curious and very confused. The last thing she remembered was walking into a hollow much like this as she wandered aimlessly around the Forgotten Vale. She had taken it upon herself to clean out any dangerous beasts she could find. Mostly to make the area safer and partially because she was very interested in learning more about the Knight-Paladin Gelebor. She doubted it would lead to anything but she was a strong hot blooded Nord woman, not some prudish Imperial Lady and she was free to pursue any man or mer that took her fancy. And he certainly had, all pail flesh and platinum hair. Only his eyes had any color to them, a dark smokey gray, like storm clouds gathering on the horizon, they held the same weight, the same tension that gathered in the air before you ever saw the storm. She wandered what he thought sometimes, was he terrified that he may truly be the last of his people, did he rage at the injustice? Did he dream about the future now that his brother was laid to rest or dread another hundred years alone?

The wind changed direction and she was brought out of her reverie by the sound of a hound baying close by. The large animal on the hill was a dog apparently. It didn't take long for it to come flying out of the underbrush at her. It was almost funny to watch as it made a hard stop several paces away, the great shaggy beast studied her closely. She knew it could sense no fear as she had none, she was the Dragonborn why would she fear a dog? She could imagine its thoughts turning like the cogs in a dwemer ruin as it reevaluated the situation. She did not break eye contact with it but she did notice the thick leather collar it wore and she surmised that this was a guard dog of some kind though she was unfamiliar with the breed. She shifted slightly and held her hand out in an inviting gesture.

"Come," she commanded quietly. The dog looked over its shoulder and back to her panting lightly, tail beginning to wag back and forth slowly as if it was confused or perhaps bemused by her.

She smiled without showing any teeth and repeated herself in a confident and friendly tone. That was all it took for the massive hound to bound over to her in a puppy-ish manner. She gave it a scratch under the chin and got a big slobbery doggy smile for her efforts. She crooned at it

"Not so tough are you?" Her answer was several loud sharp barks and the sound of two or three other hounds in the distance before they all went quite, a sharp whistle from the direction the dog had come from, echoed around the hollow before fading away. The beast hesitated for only a moment before bounding off at a full run leaving her standing in the little dip between hills surrounded by trees and wandering how she had gone from the cold of a Skyrim winter to this lovely summer day...


	2. Chapter 2

Having nothing better to do with herself, Branwen hitched up her pack and started walking after the animal. Despite the strangeness of the situation she was thrilled by it. It was now almost four years since she had discovered her ability's as a dragonborn. Her Voice had always been powerful, there were few that would not pause at the sound of her battle cry, but the Thu'um fascinated her. They allowed her to take her Voice and shape it with a specific will and intent to affect the world around her. The three or so years that followed had proven to her just how unsuited to settling down she was, really she had a house in all nine holds but she rarely stayed in any one for more than a fortnight at a time. She had almost single-handedly put a stop to a civil war, saved the whole of Nirn from Alduin the World Eater, stopped Harkon from blacking out the sun, and defeated Miraak before he could even make it off Solstheim. That's just the big stuff. Looking back there hadn't been a day after her return to Skyrim that she hadn't felt accomplished personally whether it was cleaning bandits out of old forts or hunting Daedric artifacts for her weapons collection she was always on the move. Then things started to change, things slowed down, people still held her in the highest regard but when they spoke of it now it was like they were recalling memories of fond stories and not tales of the blood, sweat, and tears she had poured out to make sure the world continued to turn for one more day. And worse yet they no longer called upon her, as she had feared there were more and more Imperial solders flowing into her homeland and while she could not begrudge them the good work they did, she could see more and more traditions being replaced by "newer" and "better" ways.

She could feel her mood shifting back to where it was before she appeared where or when ever this place was. It was a heavy and dark feeling that hung over her where ever she went. She supposed this feeling may be what had driven her into the Vale in the first place, Divines know it was not the most pleasant place to be in the dead of a Skyrim winter. Speaking of which she hoped Wynhild would make her way back to Gerebor before she was eaten by a saber cat or something. As she crested the small hill she got her first good look at her surroundings. For as far as her eye could see there were softly rolling hills interspersed with small patches of trees and crops of many different types. So she had somehow found herself on the outskirts of a farming community, except she couldn't see any houses. Unless the very small buildings dotting the hills were homes, but they were so little. From the field closest to her the dog from before and two of its friends came running at her baying and yipping as they came, it was a joyful sound and she guessed he had put in a good word for her with the others. She braced herself as they came ripping up the hill and started bouncing around her making enough of a ruckus to wake the dead. Her dragon scale armor was covered in mud as they jumped on her trying to lick at her face.

"Ok, ok. Hello you big puppies. Ok " she couldn't help but laugh loudly and without restraint at their enthusiasm. It was the most honest greeting she had received in sometime. The sharp whistle from before sounded again and she let her eyes wander over the fields as she tried to fend off three bouncing dogs as big as she was. The largest field in the area was at the base of the hill and moved out for an acre, maybe and acre and a half, and was full of pale gray topped mushrooms. What appeared to be a child was walking along one of the crisscrossing paths that bisected the field. He put his fingers to his lips again and whistled, this time the hounds did not hesitate to heed his call and bound after him in the same manner they had come to her, though she noted they did not track mud all over him. She hesitated to move down the hill and shaded her eyes with her hand for a better look at this individual. It was definitely a he but on closer inspection she was not so sure he was a child, there was an air about him of a grown (and wary) man. Yet like the houses he was very little. She wandered at the novelty for a moment more then started down the hill to meet him at the base. The only way to learn anything was going to be by asking questions.

As it tuned out he stopped long before ever reaching the base of the hill and looked like he intended to keep a good distance between them. She couldn't blame him for it in the least, after all she was a pure blooded nord and she stood an impressive 5'11" and this man (it was a grown man she could see now) was likely not more that 4'9". Admittedly it might have had something to do with her charcoal gray and black dragon scale armor, a dragonbone sword at her hip a dragonbone bow and arrows on her back and daggers tucked everywhere she could fit them. She had a matching dragonbone shield to go with it but she had left it tied to Wynhild's saddle.

"Greetings good sir, I am Branwen Artiar of Skyrim, please forgive my intrusion into your lands but I fear I have gotten a little far from my intended path." As with the hound she smiled with out showing teeth and kept her tone light and lilting. When she was finished speaking she stood calmly and quietly to give him time to decide if she were a threat or not. His eyes were sharp and intelligent, he didn't make her wait long.

"Welcome stranger," His voice was rough and just this side of suspicious, "Have to say we don't get many of the Big People up this way, wasn't quiet sure what to make of you for a moment there. Look like you're out to start a war all by your self."

"My specialty happens to be ending wars," She said with no small amount of amusement, "The good people of the world have nothing to fear from the likes of me." His only response to that was a thoughtful grunt before he turned and beckoned her to follow in the detection of one of the small houses.

"Grip likes you well enough I s'ppose and he knows more bout the character of a man than I might ever clam." He seemed almost resigned to dealing with her, she got the feeling this community wasn't overly fond of visitors. She gave him a look and he continued.

"This one here's Grip," He pointed to the dog that found her on the other side of the hill. "And this one is Fang, and the other is Wolf. And Im Farmer Maggot this is my land and we call it Bamfurlong. Welcome to Eastfarthing."


	3. Chapter 3

**Authors Note: Hello every one. I still don't own Skyrim or the Hobbit unfortunately. I would like to ask a favor of any reader interested, could you leave a review and let me now how the dialogue is flowing. It still feels a little choppy to me...also I have no beta and this is all raw, I type it out and post it so if there are a lot of mistakes I'm sorry about that but if I put to much thought into this I'd never post anything because I'd be to worried about making it perfect...**

The diminutive farmer was quiet as they walked and she was content to let things be for now. She was clearly in no danger and oddly she found herself to be in no great hurry to return home. She reached up a hand as they came to the door of the small home and brushed back her unruly mahogany hair, it felt as though nothing she did to it would hold for more that a few hours, it would need to be braided again and soon. When Farmer Maggot opened the door her sapphire blue eyes danced with glee as she realized that she stood a good head and a half taller that the frame and would have to practically crawl to get through it. Everything was just so tiny!

"Husband, have you returned so soon, midday meal will not be ready for an hour or more," A soft feminine voice called from the house.

"Its me all right and I've found more that mushrooms and cabbages in the fields today." At that Branwen stepped into the large kitchen (managing not to bump her head) and gave a warm smile to the even smaller woman chopping carrots for a stew of some kind.

"Greetings," Branwen said, "You must be the Lady of this fine house." She was laying it on thick and she knew it but this whole episode had her in a fantastic mood. She intended to share it even if the man of the house was a little surly.

"Oh my," For a fraction of a moment Mrs. Maggot looked quite speechless as she took in the sight of their guest, clad in dark armor and armed to the teeth (quite literally) . Then just as quickly as it came the wide eyed look passed and she was welcoming the tall stranger into her domain.

"Please sit my dear, you look as though you've been on the road for quite some time," She exclaimed as she started to bustle about, pulling things from shelves and laying them out on the table. In fact Branwen was very glad for the offer because even with her shoulders hunched up a little her head was still dangerously close to the ceiling and she new it was only a matter of time before she took a good bump to the head.

"Thank you Madame Maggot, but if this is all for me you needn't go to the trouble, I'm more than happy to wait for midday meal with everyone else."

"Nonsense, I'll not have a guest in this house going hungry on my watch," she tisked and set out a plate of small biscuits as if to prove that she was serious about it. "And you just call me Prisca dear, no need for fancy titles in this kitchen."

As the plate of thin little biscuits hit the table four little...whatever these people were, came popping up from every direction.

"Cookies!" Someone yelled. And just like that the little biscuits were gone. Prisca and her husband both set to hollering at the little furry footed children and their was much giggling and exasperated sighing from all parties involved. This set the tone for the night and Branwen was completely willing to just sit back and enjoy the lightheartedness of it.

As it turns out her fine hosts were of a race called Hobbits. They were a collectively small people who had thick souled feet and did not ware shoes because the curly brown fur they had from the ankle down kept their feet nice and warm. All in all she learned a fair bit about hobbits as a whole, unfortunately she was right in that they did not normally care for strangers and were a very insular group. That meant they had no information on anything that existed beyond their borders. Or if the good farmer did have information he was choosing to keep it to himself for whatever reason. After the children were put to bed she tried to turn the conversation to more business like topics including the basic lay of the land and the comings and goings of this worlds peoples (she was by this point convinced that she was indeed a long, long way from Skyrim).

"We're a simple sort of folk Branwen, and we haven't seen a stranger, except yourself in several seasons at least. Its unusual for anyone to wander this way at all but for a few elves every once and again. Even they tend to keep to themselves when they do." Farmer Maggot sat puffing thoughtfully on a pipe for a few moments, Prisca picked up where he left off.

" Well its true the elves don't come to seek us out, I have heard tell that young Master Baggins has run into them when hes out and about. That one has a strong dose of Took blood in him and he's always off exploring the woods around Hobbiton."

"It's true, if anyone round these parts could answer your questions it would be that one." from there he started to explain exactly how to get from Bamfurlong to the smial (which she learned was a traditional hobbit home built into the side of a small hill) at the end of Bagshot Row in Hobbiton. From his tone and body language she knew her host was ready for her to leave and she knew that some of the questions she had asked them that night at dinner had no doubt made her look even stranger that her armor did. She couldn't blame him, before her homecoming she would never have believed the stories of things she herself had seen and done over the years. Randomly being transported to a new world wasn't even at the top of her list of strange occurrences. As things stood she had no intention of making her wily little friend any more nervous than necessary and in his defense she wouldn't want such a strange stranger in a home full of her children either.

"Well that sounds like as good a place to start as any," She stood and stretched herself as best she could in such a small space. "If I leave now I could be there by midday tomorrow if not a little latter."

" Oh no, dear you can't leave now its so late and its much farther than that, it would take at least two or three days," Prisca sounded sincerely worried for her and she felt a bit of warmth seep into her chest. This was a lovely home and a beautiful little family.

"You need not worry about me Good Lady, I have no fear of the wild or the night. And remember my legs are as long as you are tall and will carry me more quickly than a hobbit might walk." She said the last with a wry tone and as she expected both of her hosts appreciated her attempt at humor. In the end she said farewell to the farmer and his wife (who had insisted on stuffing her already full pack with food).

As she moved away from the farm she called up the power of her She-Wolf and her sight became stronger, the darkness fell away and her world turned to shades of gray. She was a longways from home and she knew that eventually her homesickness would hit her again' as it always did when she wandered away, but for now a totally new world was laid out before her and she intended to see as much of it as she could before finding her way back to her first and only love. Skyrim.


	4. Chapter 4

Well, as it turns out she didn't get to her destination until well after dark the next day. In her defense it was totally for lack of trying, she had found a beautiful spot on a grassy hill side and napped in the warm sunlight for a few hours before continuing on her trek to Bagshot Row. In fact it was late enough that she had stopped singing for fear of waking any of the Hobbits tucked away in the beautifully build little homes. She knew very well that she couldn't sing to save her own life so she made it a point to never do so where any poor creatures may hear her. In fact she knew from the professionals that her singing was horrid because after she had discovered her Dragonborn heritage she has visited the Bard's College in Solitude with the hope that the breath control exercises they used for singing would help her with her Thu'um. At the end of it her lungs were stronger and she had more stamina when it came to her shouts, but there was not a day gone by that she didn't picture the look of stunned disbelief on Giraud's face every time he tried to teach her more that the exercises or proper courtly etiquette.

She finally rounded the last corner on the row and came upon a curious sight. She was quite sure this was the home she was looking for even though it was hard to tell the color of the door in the darkness. What she also found was a strange glowing rune etched into the base of the door, it almost seemed to be reflecting the dime moonlight. It was she noticed, almost the same dim blue that a new Thu'um glowed right before she absorbed it from its wall. Rather than walking up and knocking on the door she set her pack on the small bench at the front of the house and pulled out her latest journal, she drew the rune at the top of a blank page and made a note to herself to learn more about this new language and the power behind it.

She placed her journal back in its well waxed waterproof sack and slung her pack over her shoulder. As she approached the door for a second time she took note of the light spilling from the windows and the faint sounds of people muffled by the door, she was glad she would not have to make a choice between waking her soon to be acquaintance and sleeping on his doorstep. After listening at the door for a moment to see if she could pick up any voices (completely unashamedly by the way, eavesdropping was a dead useful skill) she rapped her knuckles against the wood three times and stood back to wait. It wasn't long before the door was forcibly yanked open by a flustered looking hobbit.

"Master Baggins?" She asked, in a slight shock at his ruffled state.

"Well at least your not another dwarf." Was his answer, she wasn't entirely sure how to respond to that so she simply moved on with the conversation, if it could be called that.

"Please forgive my intrusion at so late an hour, Farmer Maggot said you may be able to help me. I didn't realize you were having a party."

"Yes well," Now he looked a little abashed for having spoken to her so harshly, "It was entirely unexpected. Please do come in. And try to forgive me I'm afraid I'm a bit out of my element. Every time I've opened this door tonight its been to more dwarves, I have no idea whats going on and I fear that its only just the beginning."

"If these guests are no longer welcome perhaps you should make it plain to them," Branwen frowned with the thought that someone would seek to take advantage of one of these sweet little people. "If you fear resistance I would gladly aide you in this, I don't know the customs of this land, but in Skyrim a guest rarely shows such disrespect of a host that they would refuse to leave when no longer welcome."

As she closed the door behind her and looked to the little man she saw him finally calm down enough to register her armor and weapons. Unlike the farmer and the few hobbits she passed on her way here he seemed immediately curious as apposed to wary or outright frighted of her. In fact he was so absorbed in her odd dress that it took him a moment to give an answer for her offer.

"Oh no, no it's not like that. Well that is to say, well a party has found its way here and I'm sure you would care for refreshments. Please come sit I have plenty to share and..." Before he could finish a loud knocking came from the door behind her and his little head dropped in equal parts exasperation and resignation. Seeing as her large frame was blocking the door she twisted around and opened it for him. Standing on the other side was what she assumed to be a dwarf.

"Bofur, at your service," And the odd little man gave her a deep bow before turning around and calling out behind himself. "Well come on then, we haven't got all night. This is my brother Bomber and our cousin Bifur."

"I am Branwen Artair of Skyrim and this," She shifted as best she could to show Bilbo and continued in a light tone. "Is your most gracious host. Please be respectful of his home and holdings Master Bofur or I will toss you and your brother and your cousin out on your asses. I have only just arrived but I gather that your friends have invited themselves in and caused quite the upset for our kind little hobbit." Bofur took the strange...winged hat from his head and held it to his chest in a sincere gesture, his reply was delivered in the same conversational tone she had used. There was a glint of good-natured amusement in his eye as he spoke.

"You have my word Miss Branwen, it is not our intention to cause anyone upset, we gather here tonight at the behest of the Wizard Gandalf. We seek only to hold council tonight and of course to go over the contract with Master Baggins, should it be to his liking." By this point the hobbit had regained his voice and started raining questions down on Bofur's head. She moved off into as small sitting room with a cozy fireplace and started to remove her armor and weapons. Leaving her in nothing but the heavy wool undershirt and leggins she wore to protect herself from pinching and chaffing. The armor was one of her greatest sets to date, but it was still armor and it was only so comfortable.

She stayed in a chair next to the fire place for most of the night just dozing in and out as best she could with the increasing number of dwarves coming into the house. Her poor host spent most of that time running from one end of the house to the other following after different dwarves trying to get information. Such as why the were in his house, what they wanted and who they were. From the sounds of it he wasn't having too much luck. He did however make time to properly introduce himself to her and even managed to wrestle some food and drink away from his other "guests" for her. At least they were a lively bunch and she was surprised when they started singing (they were good enough to take it on the road if the fancy ever hit them). For all their boisterousness and playful bickering she could feel a more serious undertone it was a feeling that ran deep, as if everyone of them was waiting for something, a moment, an event that would have a profound effect on all their lives. It was barely noticeable at first but as she became more aware of it and tried to examine it further she felt a shiver run up her spine, something was coming, and she would likely be a part of it.

The house had become quite full with twelve dwarves, a frazzled hobbit and her long legs stretched out before the fire. The noise level was starting to get a little out of hand even for her and her people were not known for being the quiet or shy types. So she was relieved when a loud banging sounded at the door and every one fell silent, if only it could have lasted. It was apparently not who they were waiting for. Instead the Wizard Gandalf had arrived, he was immediately set upon by the hobbit and dragged into a side room before she could introduce herself.

Well that was fine, she thought, nothing had changed and she had all the time in the world for introductions. Suddenly someone pulled a stool up to the fire and she opened her eyes to see Bofur, with a pipe between his teeth. He was giving her a curious look. She had rested enough for the night and it looked like the dwarves were done torturing there reluctant host.

"You look like you have a question for me Master Dwarf."


	5. Chapter 5

Author's Note: Ok well I've looked everywhere twice now and I still can't find my copy of the Hobbit or the Lord of the Rings Trilogy so I'm going to have to Youtube the movie and go from that. It looks like they got left in Missouri when I moved to Ohio...

"What would you like to know?" She prompted when he merely continued to study first her, then her pack and armor. When he looked back at her, he smiled and she noted how it made the crows feet around his eyes more prominent, and looking at his eyes in the mostly dim lighting she noticed also that they cast the light back like a saber cats or a wolfs might. And of course being who she was her mouth started moving before her mind could stop it.

"You have strong dark vision." She mused almost to herself. Most likely she should have been embarrassed for spouting off like she did sometimes but well...what the hell, right. "That would make sense dwemer ruins don't have many windows."

"Dwemer," He repeated after her, drawing the word out as if to taste it. "No sorry, not familiar with the term. You are correct though, we dwarves do have strong dark vision. It gets stronger as we age and is a great help to us in the mines and tunnels of our...traditional homes. The only downside is that our day vision tends to suffer, worse for some and less so for others." At this he leaned towards her and in a staged whisper said, " That's the real reason we have Fili and Kili along."

"Hey!" Shouted two dwarves as they walked in from the other room.

"I'll have you know miss, that my brother and I," The blonde one said as he gestured to his darker colored sibling, "Are here because of our grand mastery in combat and our daring good looks." At this proclamation all of them laughed uproariously and with such good humor that she could almost imagine them to be very short Nordic men.

"Well, daring good looks I'll grant you, but I'm going to need some convincing of this Grand Mastery in combat." And just because she could she allowed a lewd grin to slide onto her face as she slowly looked each brother up and down. Her efforts were rewarded with a radiant(and somewhat roguish) smile from the blonde and an adorable blush from the darker one. "So now that I've disrobed you with my eyes I suppose I should at least introduce myself, I am Branwen Artair of Skyrim. I would stand and do this properly but I don't fancy smacking myself in the face with a support beam, you'll just have to make do."

"I'll show you my Grand Mastery any time Lady Branwen, and you may call me Fili." And the blonde bowed deeply, his eyes still dancing with mirth, "I am at your service."

"I don't know that she would care for your kind of Combat Mastery brother," The dark one said as he motioned to her dragonbone bow resting amongst her possessions, then he turned to her no less amused but with a quieter, almost sweeter air about him, "You will find that my eyes are the sharpest of our company and in fact I am our only archer. I am Kili and I am at your service." For the first time since the interruption Bofur made his presence known.

"Aye and the lads quite good with the thing too, I've never had the skill for it myself. Have to say as we're on the topic, I've been around and seen many things, but I've never seen a bow quite like that one you have there."

"I imagine not, few besides myself have learned to forge dragon bone into useful things like weapons and armor. Its not the most malleable substance. And not the most easily obtained either."

For the first time that night Bofur's manner was no longer lackadaisical and good natured. Instead he had become quite serious almost at the flip of a switch. Fili and Kili both slipped out of the room and back into the throng of their brethren with intense looks, so different from the playfulness from only moments before. While she had not spoken more than a few words with Bofur that night she instantly felt...well she wasn't sure what, sorrow maybe or as if she was witnessing some great loss. This man (sorry dwarf) was so clearly a free spirit that this stillness rang as being completely unnatural. It was a stillness of body and soul, there was a wariness in it and yet a growing sense of hope. For what she had no idea.

"Dragonbone, you say?"

"Yes." She responded cautiously, not sure what was happening. Normally when she told someone her weapons were forged of dragons bones their reactions were either awe or outright disbelief, but never whatever this was. Not taking her eyes from him she reached over and pulled the great bow from its resting place and held it out for the dwarf to take. He did so, slowly and in an almost trance like state.

For a long while he just held it, then as he slowly seemed to return to himself he started to run his hands up and down the well shaped length of bone. She wandered what he was seeing in that moment. She knew it was more unassuming than some of the bows she had made with flashier materials, the bone was an ash gray in color and other than the runes of her dual enchantments she had not bothered to decorate it at all. By the time he began to study the runes in earnest the rest of the company and the wizard were gathered in the doorway, they all stood silently as enraptured with the scene as she was.

"The runes?" He was absent minded, "What do they say."

"That is not easily answered," She paused to collect her thoughts before continuing as honestly as she could, "The runes do not represent individual letters or even individual words. They each hold a concept, a Truth I suppose you could say that is powerful enough, should you have the skill, that you could bind certain elements to an object..." She stopped and floundered as she looked for words to sum up something that had taken her years to master and even now she used that term lightly. She stayed like that for a few moments before she just gave up.

"I'm afraid I can't really explain it better than that and I'm sorry." She wasn't sure why she was apologizing but she didn't like not having an answer for him especially in the state he was in.

"What elements do these runes hold?" He was looking at her, really_ looking _at her as if he had never seen anything quite like her before, it was always unsettling to have the complete and undivided attention of anyone. It was intense but better than the stillness.

"Fire and Soul Trap."

"What element is Soul Trap?" The intensity was fading somewhat only to be replaced by confusion.

"It's less of an element and more of a spell. The Soul Trap rune is important to enchanting, because with out the power of the trapped souls there is no way to bind the power of a rune to the physical plane. I can write the word fire on a log until my arm falls off from exhaustion but it won't start a fire. The rune itself is only an anchor, a focus point for something not of this world. The Soul Trap spell or in this case enchantment allows the caster to trap the energy that binds a soul to the physical self into something called a soul gem. That energy intern is used to permanently bind an element or spell to a physical object. At least that's how I was made to understand the process, I've always preferred practical application to hypothetical conjecturing myself." When she was finished rambling every one was quiet, at least until Bofur absently handed the bow off to one of the others and they all burst out talking amongst themselves as they tried to get a closer look. All that is, except the wizard.

A/N: I know the chapters are short but this is all spur of the moment stuff and my only goal is that each chapter should be longer than the next. Just thought you should know what to expect...


	6. Chapter 6

"You are a Necromancer..."The wizard looked at her, the grandfatherly air he had used with Bilbo gone, replaced by a cold and dangerous aura.

"No," She replied promptly, but not with haste. She truly had no desire to go fist-a-cuffs with a wizard in such a cramped space and with so many bystanders. That did not mean she was going to stand for being accused of something she had put a stop to almost a thousand times over the years. "You'll find I feel strongly about slavery whether it be of the living or the dead. I may be skilled in the school of conjuration, but subjugating the souls of the dead is a path I will never tread."

"And the souls you use to power your enchantments, what of them."

"The gems I use are pure, they collect only the force that binds a soul to its body. Not the soul itself. In order for a soul gem to hold a humanoid soul, it must be connected to the Soul Cairn, by a necromantic ritual. You will find that such gems are heavily frowned upon by most in Tamriel."

"Tamriel?" He asked, "Girl, you speak of lands I have never heard of and you deal in magick the like of which I have never seen. Let me tell you child..."

"Hold your tongue old man," Branwen stood and was across the little room in less than three strides. It must have been something to see, her in her plane wool tunic and breeches and an old wizard with his long white beard both hunched over and in each others faces. "Let me be very clear, the fact that you are old has no bearing on my life or my standing. I hail from Skyrim, born and bred, my name is Branwen _Matron_ of Clan Artair and I am a powerful warrior, a peerless hunter, and a damn good healer. I am Dovahkiin and my deeds are legends that will live on in the hearts and minds of my Nordic brothers and sisters until the breaking of the world. And you, you will be little more than an interesting footnote in the telling of my Epic. First tales of my honor and my battles will be sung in the cities and taverns of all Nirn, then they will pass into memory and become history, then myths, then fairy tales. Do you understand old man. I will become a goddess, an immortal Queen, sovereign of Battle and the embodiment of Victory. When my Shield-Siblings march upon the enemies of Skyrim their prayers will be to me. And I _will_ answer!"

She was not breathing hard at the end of her rant but it was a close thing. She knew she had gone a bit far in the end claiming herself to be a Divine, as if she could follow in the foot steps of Talos himself. In that moment she realized that this was an important moment for her and she filed her feelings away for later so she could examine them more closely. Perhaps she could finally learn why her fires had burned so low as of late. Why her passion for the things she loved had abandoned her. One of the dwarves made an amused and appreciative noise in the back of their throat. Suddenly she was very aware of her surroundings and her audience. The wizards bushy white eyebrows were practically hidden in his hairline and suddenly she was no longer angry, in fact she was light as a feather. The She-Wolf sleeping at the edges of her awareness stretched and huffed in a "your a strange creature" kind of way. She liked to think it was affection on the beasts part.

"My years may be few, Wizard, but you doubt my abilities and my _honor_ at your own risk. Whether you are familiar with my lands or not I am a Nord of Skyrim and my people are a breed apart." At the end of this the wizard looked as if he would finally regain his voice, but before he could make a sound the dwarves were on her asking question after question. She didn't even have a chance to sort out what was being said to her before a harsh knocking came at the door (she didn't know how a knock could be harsh, but this one was). As before all sound stopped, and everyone turned to look down the hall.

"That will be the door, Master Baggins." The white bearded dwarf said softly. The poor hobbit was practically hiding in a corner in an attempt to get away from the tension rolling around the room. She was almost at her wits end, first the heavy feeling she always had now, then her rage at the wizard, followed by a strange euphoric calm, now she felt bad because the little thing was so distressed and she was mostly responsible. She turned from the wizard (exposing her back in the process) and bowed sharply with both hands crossed over her chest.

"Please forgive me little one, I offered to aid you with unwanted guests and here I am making a horrible nuisance of myself, if you ask it of me I will leave now and not darken your Hall again." She remained bowed for several moments waiting until her host could find an answer. The knocking came again loud in the quiet of the moment and breaking the strange lull that had fallen over the odd group.

"No!" Bilbo squeaked and rushed out of his hiding spot to push up on both her shoulders until she was again standing with her head next to a rafter.

"No," He said more calmly now and rubbed his hands together quickly, "Well, best I get the door, back to the dinning room everyone come now there's more to be had in the pantry. Help yourselves, and Branwen why don't you join us. Would you like a little wine?"

"No, thank you, but a bit of mead would do me wonders."

"Your in luck," He called over his shoulder, "I think I have a wee bit left over from the last time Bree sent the wagons up this way." Instead of moving back into the dinning room the dwarves followed after him to the door. The harsh knock at the door was now a hard thunder like pounding. Bilbo pulled the door open to find a dark and imposing dwarf standing with a fist still raised.

"About time, I thought I was going to have to kick the damn thing in." He stepped into the house and flung his cloak onto the nearest hook before turning to Bilbo and looking him up and down. He walked around the little hobbit like a predator sizing up potential prey. Branwen watched all of this from the doorway and only cocked an eyebrow when the wizard brushed past her to join the newcomer. Little Bilbo worked his mouth open and closed a few times but no sound came out.

"If it were not for the mark on the door I would have thought it was the wrong place," The newcomer said to Gandalf, "I thought you said this would be easy to find, I got turned around twice."

"What!" Bilbo squeaked, "There is no mark on my door, I had it painted no more than a week ago."

"Of course there is a mark Master Baggins I placed it there myself just yesterday." The old wizard said, "Welcome, welcome my friend, may I introduce you to our fine host Bilbo Baggins. Master Baggins this is Thorin Oakenshield."

"So this is the Hobbit, tell me Mr. Baggins have you done much fighting?"

"Pardon?" Bilbo squeaked again.

"Axe or sword? What is your weapon of choice?" The dwarf called Thorin prompded.

"Well, I have some skill at Conkers, if you must know but I fail to see why that is relevant."

"Thought as much, he looks more like a grocer than a burglar." Thorin huffed a little and looked to Gandalf before looking around the gathered dwarves as if taking a head count.

"In my experience a good thief has little need of an axe or sword," Branwen drawled from the doorway, "And I'll have you know that my sword arm is strong enough for the both of us."

"And you are?" The dwarf sized her up, from the dark mahogany hair (mostly wild and falling out of its braid) to her wool tunic and trousers, all the way down to her bare feet.

"Branwen Artair a proud daughter of Skyrim," She shot a look at the wizard, "And a friend of the hobbit." Kyne help her, if she had to give her name one more time before dawn she was going to Shout until there was nothing left to Shout at! The wizard shot her an almost exasperated look back.

"She is an unexpected guest," He elaborated for Thorin, "I fear I am unfamiliar with her history."

"A spy perhaps?" Thorin lifted one heavy brow and looked her in the eye, "Why else would you suddenly show up in this Mahal forsaken corner of the world."

"Listen," She said crossing one arm over her stomach and rubbing her eyes with the hand of the other, "It's late and I've been on the road for most of the year. I'm here because Farmer Maggot said Bilbo may be able to help me with a little problem of my own. If you want to fight with me right now that's fine, lets do it so I can get back to my mead."

"Uncle, look" Kili said, pushing to the front, he was holding her bow to his chest ( it was almost two feet taller than he was), " Dragon bone, it has to be I can't even string it, and you said yourself my own bow is powerful. This one would be devastating, to _any_ enemy. Dragon's bone! What better weapon to hunt a dragon with, than a weapon made from its own kin."

"You lot!" Branwen sputtered, "Hunt a dragon. What are you, thirteen dwarves, an old washed up mage, and now a three foot tall hobbit who has seen one to many meals for his own good. What are you thinking! Do you intend the hobbit to steal the beast hoard one septim at a time..."

"WHAT WOULD YOU HAVE US DO..._Woman_," Thorin's voice boomed around the small space and he hissed the last word as if it were the worst insult. All the other dwarves stood still as shadows all but Kili who clutched the great bow closer to his chest, "There are none who will aide us. My people have gone with nothing for too long, we have all suffered for to long. I will not stand for another moment of it. I will retake Erebor or die trying. It is my right, my duty and I will not turn from it."

"Erebor?" She had no idea how they had gone from talking about dragons and gold to what ever they were talking about now, she hated not having all the information. "There are none who would aide you do what, exactly. What would drive you to throw yourselves at a dragon of all things?"

"Well if you are a spy you are a poor one at least." The fire from just a moment ago seemed to have faded from the Dwarf. With that he tuned to Kili and held out his hand for the bow. Just as Bofur before him he examined it closely, running his hands up and down it. "This is no wood or metal I have ever seen and I have worked all of them at some time or another." Then to her utter vexation he placed one end on the floor and attempted to bend it, as if he would try to string it. She was, however, immensely satisfied when he couldn't get it to bend more than a few inches. He looked thoughtful for a moment and finally looked back to her.

"If you can honestly string this and use it, I'll not argue to have you sent away."

"I'll play your game, because it amuses me to do so, but this is not your house and while I am lost and far from home, I will assure you there is no army in this land or the one beyond that will move me if I don't wish to be moved." Normally when making such a threat (For make no mistake that is exactly what it was) she would call up the She-Wolf and let her eyes change to punctuate her point, but she was more interested in shutting this little milk-drinker the hell up than in unnerving them any more than they were.

-V-

A/N: Well let me know what you think of my Dovahkiin and the story so far. It will mostly be the same as the books and movies to start out, but with Branwen there it's safe to assume that there will be a good amount of butterfly effect. I originally started this because I couldn't find any good Dovahkiin in middle-earth stories ( and I'm still looking) but now I'm kinda getting attached to this story. Please review and let me know what you think because it is nice to log on and see that someone has taken the time to give me some input and to be honest when you ask questions or throw out ideas it has a huge impact on the story. So don't be shy because if you do, this story might suffer for it.


	7. Chapter 7

Branwen honestly could not remember the last time someone had challenged her abilities. Questioned her sanity, yes, question her abilities...not so much. As they all filed out of the house she found that it was actually well, nice, that she was going to be judged by her skill with the bow and not by the reputation that proceeded her every where she went. Especially in the last year or so, everything had been handed to her on a silver platter and the thought that she would have to work for the things she wanted, that she would be challenged again, not just by this company but by the whole of this new world, it made her blood sing with anticipation. She knew at this point she likely had a stupid grin on her face.

When everyone was standing on the little path leading up to the front gate she strung her bow just as she had a hundred thousand times before. She quietly called up her wolf and felt the familiar burn across her back, chest, and biceps. She doubted even she would be able to use the bow without her inner beast. When she was finished she waited a moment so the mass of dwarves around her could finish making bets and passing around little pouches of coin. She cast her eyes around in the dark (the She-Wolf was so close to the surface she didn't even need to reach for her night vision) looking for a likely target. She spotted a massive tree in the middle of a field, it was about 1,500 to 2,000 yards away, an almost impossible shot for most bows. But the draw on this bow was over 100lbs.

"That tree down in the field. That is my target." she announced her intent to the others and again waited a moment for her audience to make changes to the betting pool. Thorin snorted and made a motion for her to continue.

"An elf would have trouble with a shot that far out, if you can make an arrow stick I'll give you _my_ share of the dragons horde."

"If you can find a mer that shoots better than I do, I'll eat my boots," She knew several mer that _could_ shoot as well as she did, but none of them had the raw strength to draw a bow of this size or weight and as such could not hope to make the kind of distances she could. When no one made to answer her jibe, she pulled a single dragon bone tipped arrow from her quiver and placed it on the string. This was not a life or death situation so she had plenty of time to walk through the process and she was not so prideful that she would not take advantage of it. She set her feet just so and pulled the string back to the corner of her mouth. She noted that there was a very light wind, normally not a problem but at a distance it may well have been a raging gale, so she adjusted her aim to the right and then she did something that had the little men around her scoffing and making confused noises. She aimed her bow up into the night sky. " Just so you know Thorin Oakenshield I have a great love of gemstones, you can keep the gold and silver."

And with that said she let her arrow fly, it was impossible to track in the darkness even for her keen eyes, but she could imagine its path in her minds eye. She knew that the arrow was half way to the tree by the time it reached the peek of its arc and the gentle wind was guiding it back to the left and gravity was pulling it back down, before her vision could complete the arc the sound of an arrow thwaking into wood echoed harshly back to the party. She made a mental note to herself to recharge the enchantments when there was no flash of fire on impact. She must have used the last of it on the two frost trolls she killed before being dumped here.

"Kili," Thorin said gruffly, "Fetch the arrow, if you can find it." Even as the young dwemer took off down the hill she smiled serenely at his uncle.

"I'm especially fond of emeralds and sapphires." Was all she added. He just eyed her as if he wasn't sure if he was amused or aggravated by her smart mouth. Likely a little of both she thought. She doubted he was questioned often considering what little she knew of him and his interactions with the rest of his people. That was one thing that she had always seen as a double edged sword, on one hand its nice not to have to argue or explain your every decision, but on the other to not be questioned is to not be challenged. And any beast that is not constantly challenged will grow complacent and ultimately weak. She looked out over the field and could just make out Kili's figure at the base of the tree, he appeared to be standing with his hands on his hips as he looked up into the tree.

"Fili!" Kili's voice drifted back up to them, "Come and give me a hand up, I can't quite reach it!" Cheers and groans in equal measure went up all around her as the dwarves started to hand (read throw) coin pouches back and forth, collecting on their bets. The blonde jogged down the same path his brother had taken and after a few minutes they both returned with Kili holding the arrow over his head in triumph. In fact she couldn't help but laugh as he stopped just short of her and twirled the arrow between his fingers before presenting it to her shaft first. Of course she accepted it in an equally flashy manner and both brothers seemed to enjoy her willingness to be playful. She quickly inspected the arrow (because tree trunks were very bad for them) and finding no damage she tucked it away with the rest.

"So now that I've proven myself capable of using a bow. How about we speak of what madness I've just signed on for. All I know at the moment is that you lot intend to hunt a dragon and for some reason you have chosen to begin this quest in an unsuspecting hobbits hole."

"You will find that there is more to this particular hobbit than meets the eye," Came the wizards gravely reply. "On to business. Shall we Thorin." And he turned back and ducked into the hobbit hole. The other dwarves followed on his heel and very quickly it was just her and Thorin.

"Do you honestly know nothing of The lonely Mountain or the Dragon Smaug?" Thoin was looking at her intensely (she had a feeling this one did most everything intensely) and for the first time that evening she felt she was not being placed on a scale to test her worth, instead she felt that she was being shown a more personal side of this individual, one that like her own true self was not often shared.

"I am from a very distant land," She shifted into a more unguarded stance and dropping the jovial mask that she tended to ware, " I do not know why I suddenly find myself in this new place. Know this though, I have seen my fair share of battle, be it with dragons or less obvious foes. As a Nord the call to battle sings through my blood. As the woman my mother raised me to be I've always had a preference for the underdog and by extension quests with impossible odds. It is hard to explain but of all the people that could have been dumped here, at this time and in this place, it was me. Do you understand why I might be insistent on making myself a part of whatever this is?" His face was unreadable, but she knew he was standing on a blades edge where she was concerned. She really hoped he would invite her along for this fight, because it would be much easier for both of them than if he told her to piss off and she followed anyway. Because she would. If not for the sake of her own restlessness than to keep the little hobbit out of trouble, and for all his sputtering and huffing she could easily see the little glint in his eye every time one of the dwarves had said something even remotely hinting at adventure.

"I understand that you remind me strongly of my sister, and it is for that reason that I even consider this," He sighed heavily, " And just as any time I agree to one of her more daring ventures I will hold an optimistic hope in my heart that this is a wise decision on my part. That and the wizard seems put off by you, I don't think that's something that happens often. It's good to see." He paused for a moment and looked at her, weighing his words, " I will tolerate your presence on this endeavor, mostly because I think you will follow either way, I do intend to have your story before this night is through. I generally prefer to know my traveling companions well before the journey begins."

"Even if I gave you the short version, it would take three days and two nights for me to spin my tale, even then I would only be able to give you the briefest description of events." She smirked down at the smaller man and for a moment she almost hoped he would challenge her on it. To her disappointment he just tilted his head in a gesture of acknowledgment and headed back into the hobbit hole. For a long moment she stood where he left her looking up at the foreign sky with its odd stars and its one lonely moon. She didn't know if she would hear her from so far away but she spoke just the same.

"What is your plan, I often wonder. For the Dovahkiin to appear in a new world just as a quest is born to slay a dragon. I know I am not the most devout of your children, but never think that I do not know you to be my Mother. Kyne, if you can hear me...Thank you. For this, for everything. My life has been one glorious battle after another. You challenge me and I am stronger for it. Know this, whatever your intentions for me, I only hope that I meet your expectations." With that said she turned and ducked back into the little house.

**A/N- Thorin is a hard character to wright for. I now know this and I will never bitch again when someone else makes him totally OOC. Another thing I'm having trouble with, believe it or not, is that my Dovahkiin is a level 103 and most of her abilities are 100 with perks filled in (even her werewolf perks) so I'm struggling to make this less of a walk in the park for her because her vs Smaug is kinda lookin like a cake walk at the moment. Again please please ask me questions or make suggestions because every time you do it feeds the fire and this will flow so much more quickly if you do.**

**P.S. When she tells Thorin about her love of gems shes not kidding I have saved every gem stone I've found, she has hundreds of each in a safe in one of the houses ;p**


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